


Who lives, who dies, who changes this story

by Solussin



Category: Hamilton - Miranda, Hamilton - Miranda (Broadway Cast) RPF
Genre: Hamilton - Freeform, Lams - Freeform, M/M, Sad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:41:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24546304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Solussin/pseuds/Solussin
Summary: Alexander has another chance at life, another chance to not throw away his shot. Can he change it before things are too late? Change it before time repeats itself?
Relationships: Alexander Hamilton/Elizabeth "Eliza" Schuyler, Alexander Hamilton/John Laurens
Kudos: 20
Collections: Lamsshipp





	Who lives, who dies, who changes this story

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you guys like this!

_  
My love, take your time. I'll see you on the other side..._

Alex sat up, taking a deep breath. He looked around, his eyes taking in a bright light before him. 

' _What happened?'_ He brought his hand up to his head to remember anything but nothing came to mind. Slowly rising to his feet, he moved his hand infront of him, shielding himself from the blinding light before him. 

"Where am I?" He mumbled while looking around to find a clue, a sign of where he was. All he could see was an empty abyss of darkness with a bright light infront of him. Even the floor, or whatever it was below him seemed transparent. 

"Eliza?" He turned around again, voice echoing. "Angelica!" 

Nothing. 

"Hercules? Lafayette? Anybody?!"

No response but his own voice's echo. Someone had to hear him...unless..

' _I died...'_ he fell to the floor, staring hard at it before squeezing his eyes shut. That's right. He remembered now. He had died in a duel by the hands of his longtime enemy and friend, Aaron Burr. 

He had met him on the early morning of that day, and had thrown away everything just to be with his son again.

He had done the one thing he swore he’d never do: throw away his shot. 

_'but I don't understand...'_ he brought his hands up to his head, desperately trying to stay calm. ' _Phillip should be here...where...'_

_"Pa"_ he quickly turned his head to the white shadow. "P—Phillip?" But before he could say anything else, the whispery shadow disappeared into the darkness. 

Or he wasn't. Maybe this was his own personal condemnation, his afterlife.   
  


his own hell. 

Tears began to stream down his face as his head hit whatever was under him hard, causing him to wince a little. So this was it, his afterlife? His eternal ending? 

_"Every other Founding Father's story gets told, every other Founding Father gets to grow old."_

To be forgotten, to see everything and everyone live longer then him. To see the children he would never be able to raise grow up without a father. Before he died, it seemed like the whole world was against him. That once he was gone, he would die without nothing to be remembered by, nobody to continue where he left off, nobody—

"Eliza...."

The woman who had loved him from the very beginning and had never doubted him, the woman who had remained by his side even after all he had done. 

The woman who was his legacy. 

And no matter how many times he selfishly put himself first, she never did what he did. While he could so easily mistrust, she could easily forgive and move on. While the shattered pieces of himself were everywhere, she came to piece him back together. 

Why hadn't he realized sooner? Why hadn't he realized there was more time? For his other kids, for Eliza? He hadn't thought about that in the moment. He just wanted to see his son again and the regret of being the fault of his death lifted. And someone else... 

_Non-stop?"_

_"Would it be enough?"_

He covered his ears hoping to block out the familiar echoes of everyone he knew, everyone he failed. 

_And when you're gone, who remembers your name? Who keeps your flame?"_ The voice echoed before disappearing in-front of him. 

_'No...'_

He had wasted so much time writing it to the point where he couldn't live it. He had paid the price by sacrificing everything he loved for himself selfishly, and not once looked back on what he'd done. 

He was his own cause for running out of time and no one else. 

He stood up, taking a step forward to the light as tears streamed down his face. In the light, he could make out a woman with long dark hair and a blue dress reading to a group of children in a circle.

"Eliza..." 

She flipped a page, smiling to the children as another one ran up behind her and hugged her. How he wished he could do the same, hug her and tell her how sorry he was. He would still be here if it wasn’t for his decisions and everything that happened. If only Phillip never died, if only he hadn’t lost his closest friends, if only someone he’d lov—

Then he heard it. A distant familiar voice sing as it’s echoed the entire atmosphere. He reached out unknowingly before his hand stopped. 

" _Tomorrow they'll be more of us, telling the story of tonight. Raise a glass to freedom...”_

He felt something a pair of arms wrap around his waist and he couldn’t help but widen his eyes in disbelief. The familiar voice, the scent, the warm embrace he had missed for so long. Without turning around he knew who it was. 

He breathed heavily before looking up to the light again. He could feel the memory rush back to him, reminding him of what he’d lost so soon. 

"I have to do this, please I—" Alex could feel tears prick at the corners of his eyes again. "I need another chance. Another chance to fix everything and make things right."

' _Another chance to see you again.'_

After his death, his life had went into a downward spiral. One of the only things keeping him sane in his earlier years of life had died abruptly, leaving a hole in his heart that never healed. 

Alex put his hand on the warm hands around his stomach as he closed his eyes. he felt something soft brush up against his ear.

"I know, you'll never give up alexander, but," he felt arms tighten around his waist, "I'll always be here with you."

As he began to speak again, the light grew brighter, enveloping him in it. A tear began to stream down his face as the arms let go. 

"Thank you John, I promise I'll make everything right this time." 


End file.
